


one foot

by reignofsummerstars



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern with Bending (Avatar), Gen, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Stupid Sappy Feelings of Platonic Affection for Friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:00:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28179513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reignofsummerstars/pseuds/reignofsummerstars
Summary: Aang starts a prank war. Zuko adapts to friendly relationships without an undercurrent of malice.
Relationships: Aang & Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 18
Kudos: 27
Collections: MMEU Winter Solstice Exchange 2020





	one foot

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ethemreal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ethemreal/gifts).



> Title from Walk The Moon's "One Foot" because that song carries the vibe for this fic. University AU with bending.

Zuko busts into the general office, a trivial pile of stapled paper containing the same three statements badly rephrased nearly tipping out of his hands as he abandons the Earth Kingdom History seminar. He takes a moment to breathe in the smell of the department’s office: old paper, stale coffee, and little to no body odor from annoying freshmen. At the front desk, Suki tilts her head in a sympathetic gesture without stopping the measured movements of her nail file.

“Why did they bother trying to tell me “it gets better” when this is how it turns out?” Zuko grumbles.

Suki laughs. “I’m surprised you even believed that, grumpy gills. How bad was it today?”

Zuko didn’t sit so much as fall into the seat at the table further back in the office. “A couple that met in the class had their one month anniversary, which meant that not only are they failing whatever mathematics course they’re in, but that they just had to have a small picnic on their desks. They also just had to have some sparkling fruity thing that tipped all over their desk and the student in front of them.”

“So you got nothing done?” Suki asks, and Zuko nods. “F in chat, I guess. Oh, by the way, that sandwich over there is for you.”

Zuko grabs at the paper wrapped offering on the table with one hand while he pokes through the pile of shitty essays in front of him. He has a system usually, separating the papers with obvious issues--incorrect margins, too large font, wrong or sometimes just no citation style at all--from the ones that have more cleverly hidden mistakes. He bites at the sandwich without looking and pauses.

“Suki,” he starts, “why is there nothing on the bread?”

A bald head with a bright blue arrow pokes out of the filing closet as Aang’s familiar sunny voice calls out “Pranked ya!” The world religions TA bounces out into the office and high fives Suki on his way out.

Zuko stares at the sandwich, now realizing that it’s just two pieces of bread. He doesn’t know whether to be annoyed at Aang for a stupid prank or annoyed that the prank wasn’t much of anything. He eventually settles on, “Did you help him set that up?”

“He’s a sweet kid, but he’s not good at subtlety. I figured something was going on when he left it for you.” Suki winks. “There’s a proper sandwich in the fridge, by the way. I think he was worried you were going to get mad or something.”

Zuko isn’t mad. Zuko is not sure how he’s feeling, but he doesn’t need to deal with it just as the new semester is starting up.

In retrospect, that should have been where his train of thought ended, where he took a few minutes to pretend to shuffle through the essays in front of him while he scrolled through his phone. He should’ve ignored it and kept on with his day, unaffected beyond a slight surprise.

Zuko has never pretended to make good decisions.

This particular decision has him using his key to Laghima Hall at 11:37 at night, Sokka in tow, holding a bag full of cheap plastic watches and the pettiest plan known to man (and Suki).

Zuko hadn’t been able to say anything for the next 20 minutes except for exclamations of “Who does that?” and “What was even the point?” and by then, Sokka had stopped by, half out of breath and ready to joke that his breathlessness was Suki’s fault and not the steep, ancient stairs leading to the second floor office. After a quick summation, Sokka had an answer to at least one of Zuko’s questions.

“It’s a challenge,” Sokka nods solemnly. “Now is the time for battle, dude. A prank war.”

That statement had swept them into a flurry of planning, although to his credit, Sokka came up with most of the ideas. His didn’t have as much of a widespread carnage effect as Suki’s--”If everyone is annoyed by the crickets you let loose, that’s not a prank, that’s self-sabotage, babe”--and his ideas also didn’t toe the line between funny and mean--”No, Zuko, arson isn’t the answer, I promise you.”

So Zuko and Sokka snuck to the third floor offices shared by World Religions and Philosophy--rest in peace, liberal arts funding--and found 15 places to hide their ticking time bombs.

The boys had argued over the final punch line of the prank. Sokka was a firm believer in a build up, setting alarms throughout Aang’s front desk shift without a recognizable pattern so it’s just enough to drive anyone crazy. Zuko, however, was ready for a big payoff, wanting to set all the watch alarms for the same time throughout the room.

Sokka grew up with Katara, so he’s sure that the fact that Zuko was able to win that argument stands as a testament to his strength. The boy really has it in him to be an absolute pain in the ass.

When Sokka dares say this out loud, he gets a smack to the ear for his trouble. Ridiculous. Zuko will be getting an earful as soon as they are out of the building, Sokka decides.

The next day, Zuko finds himself--completely coincidentally, of course--accompanying an overexcited 101 student to the next floor to assist them in finding their perfect field of study. Truth be told, the ones who smell like weed and actually speak to their instructor are going to end up in the philosophy or world religions office anyway; Zuko is just helping them along their intended path quicker and easier than usual.

This has nothing to do with a not entirely metaphorical ticking time bomb waiting in the office for Aang, carefully crafted in the darkness of just before midnight.

“Naira, this is Aang,” Zuko says, motioning over to the monk. “He’ll be able to tell you about the world religions program, and there’s probably a philosophy person nearby.” Zuko is trying his damndest to avoid looking at certain portions of the shelves on the wall or the front desk that Aang is always stationed at on mornings like these, and he’s definitely not kicking himself for the shoddily hidden plastic watches sticking out of the pen cup here and the stacks of books there.

Zuko tries to inch his way out of the conversation, but Aang’s cheery voice ropes him back in when he says, “Well, Zuko’s history class has really gotten some of our students interested in interdisciplinary study, so even if you don’t major with us, we can find you some great courses that count for a bunch of different program requirements!” He flushes lightly at the implication that his 101 course does more than fill a requirement, but is distracted quickly as 18 different watch alarms go off around the office.

Aang looked around in surprise, and Zuko delivered the quip he definitely hadn’t agonized over the entire morning. “Thanks for the sandwich the other day, Aang,” he said in his closest approximation of a breezy, smug tone as he turns and leaves the office.

Aang’s shocked laughter pops out of him like the cork out of a champagne bottle and follows Zuko down the hall. Somehow, smug isn’t the right word for what Zuko’s feeling.

The next day, Zuko opens the department’s office bleary-eyed and in desperate need of caffeine, making a beeline for the worn coffeemaker and plugging it in to warm it up. In theory, he could warm it up himself, but his mind is too sleep fuzzy to focus his bending without burning something accidentally. He hears the tapping of Toph’s cane as she comes in, and lifts his hand in a wave before slapping it to his forehead, instead mumbling a “Hey Toph” in greeting.

“Gee Sparky, you sound like hell,” Toph tells him, slapping his heel with her cane with a bit more purposeful force than she would typically use.

He winces. “You’re still using the cane? I thought the whole ‘no shoes’ thing was so you could see with your bending.”

Toph shoves him away from the coffee maker, and he settles back down at the desk, letting her take advantage of the whirr of drip coffee filling the pot. “Of course I can see with my bending. I’m still the greatest earthbender in the world; I just want to remind everyone that us blind kids can and will beat the hell out of them if they try anything.”

Zuko laughs and pulls out his lesson plan for his afternoon class while Toph makes clinking noises with the mugs behind him and opens the fridge, presumably putting together the coffee that Zuko had started. A few minutes into reviewing the rubric for the assignment due later in the day, Toph sets a cup firmly in front of Zuko and he grabs for it gratefully.

A few seconds later, he sputters through a mouth full of ranch.

“TOPH!” Zuko yells as he coughs through the unexpectedly cold and viscous condiment. “Why would you do that?”

Toph smiles and pours a drink for herself. “Coffee’s ready, Zuko. Also, Aang sends his love.”

“It’s so childish!” Zuko tells Sokka, grasping at his own hair and pacing calmly without angry huffs of steam escaping from his mouth. “Like, we’re adults! We’re teaching people who have just come to university! We shouldn’t be embroiled in the midst of a prank war; this is untenable!”

Sokka replies from his place under the table, “I hear you, Zuko, but it takes two to fight a prank Agni Kai.”

“He started it!”

Sokka scoots back and stands, dusting off the knees of his trousers and telling Zuko, “Well, someone’s going to have to finish it. Try that one, now.”

Zuko grabs the mouse and wiggles it around, moving the cursor on the monitor next to it. “So, is this the last one? They’re all connected to the wrong computer?”

Sokka rolls his eyes. “Yes, Zuko. Honestly, it’s the same wire and input on each computer. You could’ve done this on your own, I’m sure.”

“Okay, maybe,” Zuko admits, “but knowing my luck, I’d accidentally make at least three computers start smoking when Aang turns them on for class.” Sokka laughs, and Zuko is oddly struck by the tone of his laughter, gentle and fond like they’re sharing an old inside joke. 

“Well, good luck, jerkbender. Tell me how it goes!” Sokka says on his way out of the computer lab.

Zuko watches him leave for a moment before checking the time. One hour before Aang’s class. Time to pull out the grand finale.

He heads over to the supply closet to stash the projector remote, knowing Aang will need it, and gets to work. With a bunch of twine, tape, messy knots, and a step stool, Zuko’s surprise is rigged perfectly to put an end to this childish mess. If it wasn’t so stupid, he would be almost proud of the work he’s done on this, but he’s worked almost as hard on his current portion of his thesis, so maybe proud isn’t the right word.

As he’s heading down the hallway, Aang catches him by the arm, heading to the computer lab early to prep for his class. Zuko tenses up, but Aang’s smile is hard to resist returning. “Hey, Zuko! You should stop by the office when you get a chance; I found a really great article about the development of the Sun Warriors’ early spiritual practices that I set aside for you. I don’t know if you’ll be able to use it for your thesis, but it should be a fun read!”

Zuko blinks. “Uh, thanks, Aang. I guess. That was really thoughtful.”

“I’m glad we became friends, Zuko,” Aang says, and Zuko stands and stares at him for a moment, a bit mystified at the revelation that yes, they’re not fighting with any kind of malice in mind. Aang is not Azula trying to add a resentful undercurrent to any fun they could’ve had as children. This is playful, and Zuko has enjoyed himself more this past week than he has in the last semester. 

Aang skips off without another word, and the soft feeling in his chest reminds him of the surprise awaiting the young monk.

Zuko has the self awareness to admit that he is not known for making the best decisions, especially when he gets himself worked up.

He is self aware enough to admit to himself that he may have gone a bit too far.

Zuko hurries after Aang, meeting him as he’s opening up the classroom. “So, this article, tell me about it. It sounds really great.”

Aang opens the door and stows his keys in the bag at his side, shrugging at Zuko’s question. “There are a lot of good quotes and references to primary sources. I don’t know if I could do it justice; you should just read the full thing.”

“Oh, ok,” Zuko says, trying to sidle into the room and get in front of Aang. The closed supply closet door feels like it has a bright sign screaming LOOK AT ME behind him. “Well, how did you find it? I’m, uh, intrigued.”

Aang sets down his bag and turns on the instructor’s computer, pulling open the drawer of the desk and shuffling through it. “I actually have a class starting in a bit, but we can definitely talk later! Do you know where they usually keep the projector remote?” He turns around without waiting for an answer and takes a few bouncing strides to the supply closet.

Three things happen in very quick succession. Aang grabs the door knob and pulls. Zuko follows Aang and pushes him directly to the right. A balloon filled with red paint drops onto Zuko’s head.

Aang’s mouth drops as paint drips from Zuko’s hair down his face, but before he can say anything. Zuko snorts, an honest to god snort, and then they’re laughing. A few first years trickle into the classroom early to this sight with all the apathy that comes with taking a required entry level course, and their indifference makes Zuko and Aang laugh even harder.

When Aang catches his breath, he says, “You should’ve seen the look on your face! You set that up yourself and you still looked surprised!”

Zuko shrugs. “I guess I’m just that good, huh.”

Aang’s attention is caught by a student asking about their computer, and as he heads over assuming Zuko’s prank has found its resolution, he replies, “I don’t know. I think I might’ve come out on top this time.”

Zuko smirks and heads out of the classroom. He’s got to wash the paint off, but he’d rather face a shower instead of Aang’s classroom of carefully crafted technical difficulties.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr @vanderlindyhop !


End file.
